


A Hundred Steps

by VampireNaomi



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Developing Relationship, Friendship, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Loyalty, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-13 03:05:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13561404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireNaomi/pseuds/VampireNaomi
Summary: Goemon finds his place.





	A Hundred Steps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [irrationalno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrationalno/gifts).



> The episodes referenced in this story are Green Jacket 5, 7 and 8, and Red Jacket 112.
> 
> Jigen and Fujiko also appear here, but I didn't tag them because they aren't so important that someone looking for them specifically would enjoy this.

“What do you wish of me?” Goemon had asked of Lupin the previous morning. 

“Hmm, I don’t know. I want to eat daifuku. Let’s make some!” Lupin had said. Goemon had waited a moment to see if it was a joke. He never knew when Lupin was kidding and when he was serious. After that dizzying moment of stumbling all over each other in laughter after he’d sliced Lupin’s car in two, he hadn’t been able to understand the man or connect with him on any level.

Goemon had always liked to put people in boxes. It made them and their reactions easier to understand and predict, which in turn made life much simpler. He liked knowing in advance what to expect. Perhaps that was why he’d always felt comfortable with his masters’ rigid rules, even as his fellow students struggled.

He squeezed his eyes shut in anger and forced the hand stirring the bean pot to remain steady. If Lupin had asked him to go buy daifuku for him, he would have. He was used to running errands. This was unheard of. A waste of his skills. Completely pointless. He hadn’t joined Lupin’s group to make dessert.

He was a hired sword. People paid him and told him what to do. Even in today’s world when other methods of taking a life had replaced swords, there was need for a man who could wield a blade efficiently. He was bought to send one’s enemies a message, to show his employer valued traditions and class, to shock people with gutted stomachs and severed limbs.

He kept stirring the beans and didn’t turn to look when he heard angry yelling and spoons being thrown around behind his back. As much as it annoyed him, he couldn’t allow the paste to burn. This was a crucial step. Perhaps that was why Lupin had asked him to do it, as he and Jigen seemed more adept at getting starch all over the kitchen.

“Goemon, look!”

Hands squeezed his shoulders, then moved to his neck to force him to turn around. Goemon felt his spine go rigid with the effort not to lash out and draw his sword. The hand that had been holding the spoon was already gripping the sheith.

It was only Lupin. There was nobody in this house who wanted him dead. But years of training had taught him that anyone who grabbed him from behind had to die.

“Goemon, look at Jigen! His beard is white!”

Goemon swatted Lupin’s hand away from his face and gave Jigen an unimpressed glance. There was more starch on him than on the mochi they were supposed to be flattening on the table.

“Do you know what it’ll take to get this jacket clean again, huh?”

Lupin shrugged and stepped away from Goemon, smiling like only a man who had no idea how close to death he’d been could.

“Only a dumbass wears a designer suit to the kitchen.”

“Go to hell.”

Jigen had been the easiest to put into a box, at least in the beginning. Even though their methods and philosophies differed, Goemon had seen a kindred spirit in him. A man who lived by selling his skills with his weapon of choice, didn’t ask questions, and faced the world alone.

Except that men of that type didn’t talk back to their bosses the way Jigen did. He’d seen Jigen give Lupin a kick to the side and empty a bucket of water on him when he’d been lying on the floor with a hangover. On top of that, he didn’t seem to be doing any work. It was months since he and Lupin had pulled off a successful heist.

Fujiko had helped him wash the beans the previous evening. He’d expressed his confusion to her. Why did Lupin employ one of the best hired guns in the world if he didn’t use him for anything? Why didn’t Jigen leave? Didn’t he have any self-respect?

“Shouldn’t I ask the same of a samurai who has put down his sword to wash beans?” she’d asked, and he’d remained stubbornly quiet for the rest of the evening, angry that she’d mock him so.

The boss’s woman. That would have been the obvious name to call her. But just like Jigen wasn’t filling his expectations, neither was Fujiko. She had even less respect for Lupin and yet seemed to be fond of him. Lupin never stayed angry at her for longer than five minutes. They talked of past betrayals like they were discussing amusing but unimportant blunders.

But the one who was the hardest for him to understand was Lupin himself. If Jigen wasn’t a hired goon, Fujiko not the boss’s woman, then Lupin wasn’t the boss. Nobody Goemon had served would have tolerated the kind of attitude that Lupin took in stride from the people around him. Nobody else would have returned an insult with one in kind rather than a bullet. Nobody would have asked a man of his skills to boil beans.

He finished making the paste and set it aside to cool. Lupin had returned to flattening the mochi with Jigen, and Goemon settled down on the floor to watch them. After a while, he closed his eyes and only listened - to Lupin’s ever changing pitch that grew higher the more amused he was, and Jigen’s deeper grumbling that was threatening to turn into yelling as his fuse got shorter.

The most worrying part of the whole thing was that he wasn’t sure what to think of himself within this strange group of mismatched people. If nobody else was playing by the rules, how could he? And if he couldn’t, just what was he supposed to do with himself?

He didn’t like asking questions of that kind. He was supposed to have the answers already. His purpose was to walk a never-ending path of self-improvement and sell his services to people who could afford the best. His honor came from doing his work as expected, not from serving just masters.

He’d chosen to join Lupin’s group because nobody else had ever avoided death by his blade this many times. He’d been momentarily blinded by the charm of a man who could laugh like a brother with someone who’d sworn to take his life. He’d thought he could learn from him.

He heard Jigen finally snap and chase Lupin out of the kitchen with threats of hitting him with the rolling pin if he didn’t stop leaving starchy handprints all over him. Lupin’s squeals and apologies rang loud long after they’d stormed off, leaving Goemon alone. Disappointment and bitterness rose within him like bile. Perhaps he’d made a mistake.

Later that evening, they had tea and ate the daifuku on the balcony. Goemon had put a lot of sugar in the bean paste, so the taste was sweet, almost too much so. He watched the stars with the others and mused that their daifuku wasn’t as good as the kind he’d sometimes shared with Master Momochi.

“Yeah? I bet that old fart didn’t make it with you, though,” Lupin said when he voiced his thoughts.

“He had more important tasks for me.”

Lupin sighed in exasperation. “You’re going to have to loosen up if you want to work with us long-term. Think of this as making sure the beginning of our partnership is blessed with good fortune. Here, you take the last one.” 

Goemon did as asked. The others watched him eat it and smiled like he’d just accomplished something great. Fools. And yet they were the best at what they did.

He’d stay for a while, he decided, and see if there was anything he could gain from working with these people. If they turned out to be a hindrance on his journey, leaving them behind would be the simplest thing in the world.

***

Goemon couldn’t hear anything but the violent whoosh in his ears, but he didn’t know if it was the wind outside, the sound of the car’s engine, or his blood rushing through his veins. He was clutching his sword with both hands so hard he couldn’t feel his fingers.

He’d made a mistake. This heist, one that should have been the simplest thing in the world to pull off, had gone wrong all because of him. Lupin had asked him to cut the cables of the alarm system. He’d promised he would. He’d thought he’d done so, but maybe it had been something else, the phone lines perhaps, because the alarm had still been on when they’d walked into the exhibition hall.

And then -

“Hang on, we’re almost there.”

Lupin was driving. The three of them were on the backseat. The stench of blood was so thick that Goemon thought he’d choke on it. Blood was nothing new to him. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it was a reminder of his mistake, how he’d been the weakest link in the group and brought everyone down with him.

They had expected hired goons at the museum since it was owned by a mob boss, but they hadn’t thought they’d be good enough to land a shot. Goemon didn’t think this was a common thing for Lupin’s group. The others had been stunned with shock, like something as mundane as getting hurt on a job just didn’t happen to people like them.

Jigen had been muttering profanities at nobody in particular in the beginning of their car ride, but he was quiet now. It wasn’t a good sign, but there wasn’t much they could do for him until they reached the hideout. They’d stopped briefly at a phone booth to call an underground doctor that Lupin trusted.

Goemon wanted out of the car. It was his fault it had come to this. Lupin’s careful planning, Fujiko’s dangerous undercover work, all wasted. Without his blunder, Jigen wouldn’t have been hit. It was the first time he did a job with the others, and all he’d managed to prove was that he wasn’t fit to be with them.

Ten minutes later, they were at the hideout. Goemon helped Lupin carry Jigen inside. He stumbled and almost let Jigen’s wrist slip from his grasp. Lupin told him to be more careful, a sore edge in his voice, and Goemon felt completely useless. 

The doctor arrived a moment later. Lupin went in with him to have a look at Jigen, but when Goemon tried to follow, he shook his head.

“It’s better you wait here,” he said and closed the door.

Goemon felt a lot of things all at once. Anger that he was being left out, a sense of helplessness that he couldn’t do anything, but most of all, disappointment in himself. He’d already shown that he was unreliable. No wonder Lupin didn’t want him there.

“I’m taking a shower. I’ve got his blood in my hair,” Fujiko announced and started going upstairs.

Goemon’s hands were bloody, too, and he considered following her example. But Lupin had told him to wait. He should be able to follow at least a simple order like that. So, he knelt on the floor of the entrance hall and placed his sword by his side.

He wondered what Lupin would do once he returned. Surely he would punish him for his failure. His masters had. Lupin hadn’t called himself his master even once since he’d joined his group, but it was hard for Goemon not to think of him as one. He’d been taught to serve. If he couldn’t do that, what worth did he have?

He raised his head to look at the closed door. If Jigen died, he was sure Lupin would expect his life as atonement. Goemon didn’t want to die, but he wouldn’t fight it. Only a coward couldn’t face his own mistakes.

Fujiko didn’t come back downstairs. Goemon remained on the floor, not sure how much time passed, but eventually Lupin and the doctor came out. Lupin was thanking him and talking about payment. He gave Goemon a weird look as he walked past him and led the doctor to the door.

“How is Jigen?”

Lupin collapsed into an armchair with a tired groan. “He’ll be fine. He lost a lot of blood, but other than that, it’s not so bad.”

That was good. Lupin might be satisfied with something less than his life.

Goemon bowed his head. “Tonight’s failure was entirely my fault. I didn’t have the skills you required of me. Please let me make up for my shortcomings.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“I will accept any punishment.”

There was a sharp sound as Lupin straightened his form. Goemon kept his eyes on the floor and waited for him to say something. For a long time, nothing happened, but then Lupin got up and began to walk away. Goemon didn’t move.

When Lupin came back, he placed a steaming mug of tea in front of him on the floor, then sat down again, holding a mug of his own.

“That wasn’t your fault. You did exactly what I said. I should have noticed that the cables were a decoy. And I should have had a better plan B than just scatter and run.”

“But -”

“Goemon,” Lupin said quietly, in a tone that Goemon hadn’t heard before. “Even if it had been your fault, so what? I don’t punish my friends.”

Goemon tried to make sense of that. Lupin saw him as a friend? Why? Because he’d been living with the group for a few weeks? Friendship took more than that to form, and at most, Goemon might have called the others his partners. He had no intention of becoming their friend.

“I find it curious you would call me your friend. How flimsy is your notion of friendship if you already think of me as one?”

He expected Lupin to get mad at him, in that flippant way that made him look like a child who’d been denied sweets. He might have been staying with the others for only a little while, but he’d quickly learned how Lupin dealt with disappointment.

Instead, he turned his eyes down to his tea.

“Is that so? I guess I was getting ahead of myself. Sorry, Goemon.” Lupin put his tea, still untouched, down on the table and got up. “Did Fujiko already go to bed?”

“I don’t know.”

Goemon didn’t bother hiding the contempt on his face. Even at a time like this, there was only one thing on Lupin’s mind? It was now tempting to believe his words that the fiasco at the museum had been due to his lack of planning, not Goemon’s lack of skill. Maybe he’d gotten careless because he’d been thinking about Fujiko.

Never mind that Goemon himself had walked straight into a trap because his head had been filled with hopeful thoughts of her when he’d first met Lupin.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to join these people after all. He didn’t understand them. Half the time, they were so unprofessional that it gave Goemon a headache. Lupin often showed moments of such weakness of spirit that it was an insult such a degenerate could also be so skilled.

He watched Lupin go upstairs and decided that he’d stay where he was. There was a smaller bathroom where he washed the blood off himself and then returned to his spot on the floor. He’d spend the night there, musing on what his actions come dawn should be.

His meditation was interrupted some fifteen minutes later when Lupin returned downstairs. His hair was wet, and he’d had a change of clothes.

That was quick, Goemon thought and watched him disappear into Jigen’s room.

It was a couple of hours later that Lupin came back out. He walked past without a word and climbed up the stairs. Five minutes later, Fujiko came down.

“You’re up?” she asked. “What on earth did he wake me up for if you’re here?”

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re taking turns keeping an eye on Jigen.”

“Ah. He didn’t tell me anything about that.” Goemon was glad he hadn’t said anything about his earlier assumption that Lupin had joined Fujiko in bed for a while. Clearly he’d just told her when he’d wake her up and then taken a shower. He wanted to hang his head in shame. Maybe he was projecting his own flaws on him. How embarrassing.

He was about to tell Fujiko that she could go back to bed, that he’d take over for her. But then he wondered if he wasn’t overstepping his bounds. If Lupin wanted him involved, he would have asked.

“Let me know if there’s anything you need,” he said instead.

“You can do two things. Make some tea and keep me company.”

“I can grant your first request, but perhaps I shouldn’t get further involved. I’ve made Lupin upset.”

“Oh? Did he get mad about the alarm? That was his fault. Don’t worry. He’s just mad that Jigen got hurt and we didn’t get the diamond.”

Goemon prepared her favorite tea for her and brought it to her to Jigen’s room. Only a dim bedside lamp was on, leaving the corners dark. Fujiko was sitting in an old armchair, one leg crossed over the other, leaning her head on her hand. He hadn’t noticed it in the hall, but she looked tired.

He put her tea on the table since it was still hot and sat down on the floor. He’d planned to go back out, but now that he was there, he found he didn’t want to. It was hard to keep his eyes off the silent form on the bed. The regular up and down of Jigen’s chest was something to hang onto.

“Lupin told me he’d be fine,” he said.

“Are you worried?”

Goemon thought about it. Not any more than he’d be over any other comrade, he decided. He’d trained and worked alongside men who’d been important to him, but not so important he would have let it distract him from what had to be done. That a man like him had to live his life alone was the first lesson he’d been taught.

“It would have been a shame to see someone with his skill die too soon,” he said.

“Oh? I recall you telling me how you despise modern weapons and the people who use them. Men with true Japanese spirit -”

“Please.” Goemon hoped she couldn’t see the embarrassed flush on his face. He’d said a lot of things to her that he now regretted. Full of foolish hope for the first time in his life, he’d wanted to impress her. They’d spent nights talking, and afterwards he’d listened to his radio and imagined what more he might have had if he’d asked. He liked to think it was proof of his strength of character that he could still talk to her and work with her even after she’d tricked him twice. He had reason to be grateful. She’d shown him where his weaknesses lay.

“Lupin thought we were friends,” he said.

“Is that any wonder? You’ve been hanging out here for weeks and doing nothing. Who else but a friend would?”

“The only friend I need is my sword.”

Fujiko shrugged but didn’t argue. Perhaps she thought he was a fool, but he found he didn’t care. 

Less than half an hour later, Lupin joined them. Couldn’t sleep, he said, and brought a chair for himself.

“There’s no point in all of us sitting here and watching him. He’s not going anywhere,” Fujiko said. She looked expectantly at Lupin, then at Goemon. When neither said anything, she let out a long sigh and settled into a more comfortable position in the armchair.

“Don’t wake me up if I fall asleep,” she said.

None of them slept that night. For Goemon, it was out of a sense of obligation. The mistake might not have been his fault, but the least he could do was see the heist to the end by staying awake with the others. He listened to Lupin and Fujiko’s quiet conversations about past adventures, injuries, and near-deaths.

Maybe it made them feel better, he thought. Reminding each other that they’d been through so much and were still there drove home that they’d be fine this time, too.

Another thought that crossed his mind was whether his presence was a nuisance. Without him, would their comfort have extended beyond words? He’d said that he wasn’t their friend and meant it, but realizing that he had nothing to share with them at a time like this wasn’t so easy to brush off.

If he ever got hurt like this, would anyone keep watch by his bedside?

He offered to make coffee for everyone deep into the night, only to realize he’d never used a vacuum coffee maker. He stared at it in the kitchen and didn’t know what to do. It took him so long to get started that Lupin came to see what he was doing.

“You don’t make coffee by boiling entire beans in water,” he said and tossed Goemon’s concoction into the trash. The water was hotter than he’d expected, and he let out a string of alarmed sounds as a few drops splashed on him.

“My apologies. I don’t drink coffee.”

“Give it a try. It’s great on nights like this.”

“Does it really help you stay awake?”

Lupin shrugged. “I wouldn’t sleep anyway. I just like strong, black coffee when I’m worried and need to think. You know what, I’ll teach you how to make it real good.”

Goemon wasn’t sure if Lupin was trying to tell him something by acting so friendly after he’d brushed him off earlier. Perhaps it was just how it was. He watched carefully how Lupin ground the coffee beans, put water to boil in a carafe, and placed the container on top. Seeing the water move up and then down again in the glass stem was fascinating. He would have to practice and ask the others to tell him how it was.

“You said Jigen would be fine,” he said.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”

Some pieces clicked into place in Goemon’s mind, and he felt he understood a little better why he was having a hard time putting labels on the people in Lupin’s group. They weren’t just professional criminals who were working together. There was more that bound them to each other. Something more than artificial loyalty created through oaths and sanctions.

The drugs Jigen had been given wore off in the early hours of the morning. He was barely coherent when he woke up, having just about enough strength to ask for a cigarette but not enough to complain when Lupin said no.

“You guys look like shit,” he said and closed his eyes to drift back to sleep.

Goemon felt a little guilty that Lupin’s relieved smile was meant for him, too.

***

There was no work for several months since Jigen needed them to recover, and Lupin didn’t want to do anything big without him. Fujiko invited Goemon to come along as her bodyguard while she did a job in high society in Hong Kong. In the end, she didn’t need him, but he enjoyed getting to travel and learning something new when he visited local masters.

Upon their return to Japan, there was still no work for a while. Goemon found himself wondering how Lupin paid for everything. He had an expensive taste in cars and wine and women. If it was the inheritance of his famous grandfather, then he should be ashamed of squandering it so.

“Not every job is worth taking,” Lupin told him when he asked.

“Ah. You follow a code of honor?”

“Pfft, nothing that fancy! The job has to be interesting or fun before I’ll bother. My grandfather would turn in his grave if I did a standard bank robbery that any two-bit goon can pull off.”

So, it was pride. Goemon could respect that. One of his masters had told him that a good man needed both honor and pride but that they should stay in balance. From what he’d seen, Lupin had some honor as a thief but little as a man.

He had to reconsider that view only a week later when they got tangled up in the incident with the mysterious deck of cards that Fujiko claimed had spoken to her. At first, Lupin showed no concern for Jigen and Fujiko who’d been trapped inside an empty house. Goemon had been ready to abandon him then and there. He had no use for a partner who’d watch the demise of the people he’d claimed were his friends without lifting a finger to help. After how concerned Lupin had been over Jigen’s injury, seeing him watch the others’ predicament with an amused smile had filled him with rage and disappointment.

Of course, it turned out he was wrong. Lupin pulled off one of his ridiculous stunts and saved everyone. Goemon felt foolish about his outburst and was glad Lupin didn’t mention it to Jigen or Fujiko.

He waited for a chance to catch him alone and finally got it when Jigen went out to buy cigarettes. Lupin was doing the dishes in the kitchen after they’d had early dinner. Goemon watched him and listened to the clink of the plates in the sink, telling himself he was looking for the right words even though he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

“Lupin. I apologize for what I said earlier. I should have realized you’d never abandon the others. I was wrong.”

“That’s alright,” Lupin said in a sing-song voice, not turning around to face him. “I knew you’d think that.”

“What?”

“I had to get the instructions to build the kite inside the house somehow, you know? I knew that if I acted like I didn’t care, you’d storm in there to save them or die trying.”

Goemon made an indignant sound in his throat. How infuriating that Lupin knew him so well already, but he was still having trouble understanding how he thought and acted. He felt very young all of a sudden, like a child trying to make sense of something beyond his comprehension.

“You used me,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation, merely a statement.

“Sorry.”

“You could have told me to go there and deliver the message. I would have done so without question. You didn’t have to trick me.”

“I know, but that wouldn’t have been as much fun. Either way, the job got done.”

“So, I’m predictable.” It should have come as no surprise that Lupin liked playing with him. Their entire first meeting had happened because Lupin had wanted to mess with him. It hadn’t changed even when he’d made it clear he was after his life. Everything was a game to him. If he hadn’t seen him worry about Jigen’s injury, he might have thought him a clown through and through.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Half a year ago, Goemon might have seen nothing wrong with it. Predictable meant he was staying true to his convictions. But he wondered if he could keep working with Lupin if he was that easy to read and fool.

“Jigen’s predictable, too,” Lupin said, maybe noticing his doubts. “There isn’t a more trustworthy guy in the world. It’s good to have people who’ll always have your back.”

The day’s events started to feel a little less like a failure on his part. Goemon thought that maybe Lupin’s words were about him, too. He’d stormed his way through enemy lines to protect Jigen and Fujiko. He wanted to think he’d proven himself worthy of his trust.

That became one of the driving forces behind Goemon’s actions for a long time. When he was with the others, he wanted them to think he was skilled, reliable, and - eventually - a good friend. He liked it when they whooped and smiled when he sliced through something that no blade should have been able to scratch. It was reassuring to know that even if he left the group to train or work by himself, there was room for him when he came back.

He’d never had much of that in his life. His first master had been his uncle, and after he’d died, Goemon remembered being passed from one teacher to another. It had been a fresh start every time, and he never returned to the people who’d taken care of him last. As a child, he’d wanted to become the best and to have everyone recognize not just his famous name but who he was. He’d eventually learned that being legendary was a death sentence to a man in his line of work - and the start of a path that led to decayed integrity, as the incident with Master Momochi had shown.

He wondered about Lupin, sometimes, when he was away from the group. He was a living legend. He wanted everyone to know his name and stand in awe of his crimes. Would he succumb to his selfish desires, too, and become a mockery of himself? Had he already? Should he keep an eye on him and cut him down if he went too far?

But his worries disappeared each time he returned to the others. Lupin could display an utter lack of any basic decency, especially when women were concerned, but underneath all that he was a man Goemon could respect and follow. The more time he spent with him, the easier it became to see that.

I’m weak, he thought in dismay when Lupin’s smile lit up the room. He was always happier with the others than by himself. Alone, he thought too much about his own flaws and what he should do to become worthier of his blade. Most of the answers he found were in complete contradiction with what he’d realized he wanted from life.

He shouldn’t have let himself grow attached. No, not just attached. He cared so much for the others that it surprised him and stole his breath sometimes - when he and Jigen had each other’s back in battle and didn’t need to talk to know what to do, when Fujiko taught him something new that he’d never imagined he’d need to know, like how to clean the air filter on a motorbike.

He felt so accomplished when he was able to do exactly what Lupin asked of him, whether it was cutting a squad car in two, disarming guards, or just getting him tea when he had a hangover. Maybe part of him still thought of him as a master. Surely it wasn’t normal to hang onto every word and gesture of a mere friend in such a way.

At least, he hoped Lupin saw him as a friend. He’d said it so casually that night when he’d refused to punish him, but not since then. He _acted_ like they were friends, but Goemon found he wanted to hear it from him. He regretted his blunt words from before and hoped that his actions proved to Lupin how much he cared.

The simplest path would have been telling him how he felt, but he didn’t want to just walk up to him and say that he’d follow him anywhere and die for him. The situation had to be just right. He wanted Lupin to look at him eyes wide with awe, not brush him off with a laugh and tell him he was always so dramatic.

It was embarrassing and not befitting someone his age, so he tried to keep his delight at attention from Lupin a secret. He’d just make fun of him if he noticed. Goemon decided to turn the problem into another step on his path of self-improvement. One day, he’d be over it and wouldn’t have to stifle his childish excitement whenever Lupin called him pet names after a successful heist. He did the same to Jigen and Fujiko, after all. It was absurd to wish that he could be special.

***

Goemon dreamed of pain. It was a bright, unidentifiable mass that had swallowed him, and now he was being boiled alive. He recalled no concrete images of what had happened to him, but it only added to his confusion and feeling of helplessness. There was no escape and no relief, and the weight of the knowledge that it’d never end was almost too much to bear. For the only way out was to betray -

“...mon… ‘s fine.”

Something cool pressed against his forehead, and for a while it was easier to breathe. It hurt so much. Every inch of his body was on fire, but the distant words of a familiar voice brought him some relief.

An even greater comfort came when he opened his eyes. The pain didn’t disappear, only became more concrete, but even in his groggy state, it was overwhelming to remember that there had been an end, after all. He was no longer captive. And he hadn’t talked.

Lupin. Lupin had come for him when he’d still been deserving of it. This realization was the biggest source of relief. He hadn’t failed him.

He must have let out a sound of some kind because suddenly Lupin’s face was staring down at him, eyes huge.

“Goemon? Are you awake?”

He tried to answer, but his throat was dry, or maybe raw from screaming, and he couldn’t get out a word. It was distressing, and once he realized how hard it was to move his limbs, he became overcome with the need to get out of the bed that was keeping him trapped.

Lupin put a hand on his chest to calm him down. “Shh, don’t worry. It’ll be fine. You’re going to be fine.” His other hand moved up to stroke Goemon’s hair, and the gentle pressure against his scalp made him forget about all the pain for a moment. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but his head was probably the only part of him that wasn’t injured, where it wasn’t agony to be touched.

“I’ll get you some water. Don’t move,” Lupin said.

Like I could even if I wanted to, Goemon thought wryly.

“You’ve had a fever for the past few days, but I think it’s getting better,” Lupin said as he returned with a glass of water. He helped Goemon raise his upper body enough to drink and brought the glass to his lips.

Right. His thumbs were broken, too. He couldn’t do anything on his own. He’d have to be fed and cleaned like a baby. The anxiety from his dream returned, and he coughed as he almost choked on the water.

“Sorry, was that too fast?” Lupin asked and reached for a towel to dab him dry.

Goemon turned his head to look at him. Lupin’s face calmed him. He wasn’t going through this for no reason. He’d protected what was important to him. There was no reason to have regrets.

“Where’s Jigen?” he asked.

“I sent him to pick Fujiko up at the airport.”

“So, she’s coming, too.”

“Of course! She dropped a real good job just to be here.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a burden to you all.”

“None of that,” Lupin said and flipped him on the nose. He helped Goemon lie down, mindful of the wounds on his back, and disappeared from view to do something. Goemon craned his neck to search for him with his eyes. Lupin was all that was making this bearable.

“You should get back to sleep,” Lupin went on. His words were accompanied by the click clack of cups being piled on top of each other. When he came back to view, he had his arms full of dirty dishes. He must have been having all his meals by his bedside.

“I don’t want to sleep.” He was tired, and it might have brought some relief from the pain, but he was worried he’d just end up back in the oppressive void of vague memories and sensations he couldn’t control.

“I can give you something. You’ll go out like a light.”

“Maybe later.”

Lupin drew in a slow breath. His face was usually full of amusement at the world around him, like it was his personal playfield. Now, every line around his mouth and eyes was devoid of any emotion. He tossed the cups and plates he was carrying onto the nearest armchair with a sound that made Goemon sure some of them got broken.

“You’ve done enough,” Lupin said and came to kneel by his bed. “Go to sleep. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll be right here.” He lowered his head to rest it on the mattress so that Goemon could only see his hair and ears. At first, he thought Lupin was putting up a show of begging him, and he was ready to growl at him to stop, but then he saw the slightest quivering of his shoulders.

There’d been moments when he’d almost given in and talked, usually when Rose had been describing what she’d do to him next and showed him the equipment. He knew how to deal with pain, but fear was far worse. In those moments, he’d thought of Lupin.

He’d wanted to make Lupin proud of him. It looked like he’d only made him cry.

“You don’t have to weep for me. Or is there something wrong with me? Will I not go back to normal?”

“You’ll be fine. But look at you.” Lupin raised his head, eyes teary and heart-broken. “All this for me.”

“Would you rather have had me talk?”

Lupin shook his head. Even if he thought so, he knew him well enough to understand that Goemon would take it as an insult if he said yes. It’d be the same as telling him his sacrifice had been meaningless.

“I wish we’d been there sooner. I should have grown worried more quickly. I should have looked for you harder. I’m so sorry.”

“They got me because of my own foolishness. It’s not your fault.”

“Maybe, but I want to make it better. So, please sleep for now.”

Goemon couldn’t say no when Lupin was looking at him like that. There hadn’t been many times when he’d seen Lupin cry. Even in the middle of all the pain and uncertainty, he found some satisfaction in the fact that Lupin didn’t have to cry because _he_ was in pain, or because he’d lost someone important. Goemon could go to sleep knowing that he’d done well. 

As promised, Lupin was there when he woke up in the middle of a nightmare. He brought him back to reality with his voice and talked to him about happier times until he calmed down and slept again. When the fever left him and he could stay awake longer, Lupin brought him water with a straw so it’d be easier to drink. He made plans about how to arrange things so that everything would be as easy and comfortable for him as possible. Just listening to his chatter kept Goemon’s worries at ease and stopped him from thinking about the hard road ahead of him.

***

His recovery wasn’t easy. It was a strain to do even the simplest tasks with his broken hands, and he hated having to rely on the others for them. He spent most of his time lying on his stomach since the worst wounds were on his back and sides, and there was little he could do to pass the time like that.

He made it clear he didn’t want to be a spectacle, so Jigen and Fujiko gave him space and travelled away after doing their share of fussing over him. It was a chance to take care of private business they’d left hanging, they both said, and Goemon decided to accept it as a gesture of friendship and not pity.

That left him alone with Lupin, and much closer to him than ever before. He helped him eat and clean himself, brushed his hair, got him into and out of clothes, and took care of his wounds so that they didn’t become infected. After he felt strong enough to start moving, Lupin gave him his shoulder to lean on since he couldn’t put weight on his ankle.

It was a relief when he was no longer trapped in bed. Sitting on the floor made him feel like the world was larger than he’d ever realized. Lupin had brought him to a little house in the countryside that had no electricity or running water. There was a well in the garden, and Goemon started every morning watching Lupin carry water inside the house.

They were here because Lupin wanted him to feel at home, he knew. It would have been easier for him to take care of him in a city where everything was within reach. After the first week when his thoughts stopped being weighed down by how horrible and tired he felt, he began to wonder if Lupin didn’t feel trapped in such a place.

“You don’t have to watch over me all the time,” he said one evening when Lupin was checking his back to see how the wounds were healing.

“Hm? I’m not. I spend a lot of time cooking and reading. The previous owner left a great library here.”

“You know what I mean. Don’t you want to go out? Have some fun with… Have some fun.”

Lupin let out a pleasantly surprised sound. “Didn’t think you’d ever tell me to run after women.”

“It’s not that. I just don’t wish for you to grow resentful of the fact that you’re cooped up inside as my caretaker.” Furthermore, he didn’t want Lupin to start resenting _him._ He knew how much he loved his freedom to do and go as he pleased. It worried him that Lupin’s gratitude would grow thin and turn into frustration once he realized that his recovery wouldn’t be just a matter of weeks.

“It’s not so bad taking it easy for a while. And that library I mentioned, there are lots of adult magazines there. You want to take a look?”

“I will heal faster if my mind is free of unnecessary thoughts.”

“It’s the sign of a healthy man to want some time for himself.”

Goemon couldn’t help but glance down at his hands that were resting in his lap. Even if he was to follow Lupin’s suggestion, what could he accomplish with broken thumbs? Not much. An absurd thought crossed his mind as he imagined Lupin helping him with that, too, and he couldn’t hold back the aghast sound that escaped his throat.

“Oops, did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” Goemon muttered.

“Okay, good. Try to lift your arms a bit. Let’s see how your skin feels.” Lupin slipped his hands under Goemon’s arms to help him raise them. Rose had broken his skin with her lashings, so the scars would ache and feel tight for a good while. He couldn’t wait to be able to move freely again, now that his pain was at a level he could tolerate. He worried about what so much idleness would do to his skills.

He let Lupin guide his arms and followed his lead. His touch had been a comfort until now, but all of a sudden he couldn’t stop himself imagining his fingers elsewhere on his body. He closed his eyes and tried to drive such thoughts away. He hadn’t thought of Lupin like that before. It had to be just the result of his mind growing restless when he couldn’t distract himself with physical exercise, and how Lupin was being so attentive. With nobody else there to catch his fancy, he was giving it all to Goemon.

And he was enjoying it, he thought guiltily. What would Lupin say if he knew how he was twisting his kindness, what kind of thoughts were plaguing him right now?

Then again, it being Lupin, he just might laugh and brush it off. But Goemon didn’t want to be laughed at. Especially about this, which was starting to feel more and more real as he sat there and thought about it.

He also didn’t want to be turned down kindly, which he was sure would happen when he was in this state. Surely Lupin wouldn’t be attracted to a half-broken man. If Goemon was going to entertain ideas like this, he’d have to get better first. It’d give him time to think and see if wasn’t just friendship and gratitude getting mistaken for something else.

“Has there been any word from Jigen or Fujiko?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Goemon waited. “And?”

“Can you believe it? They actually went and did some job all on their own, without us!” Lupin finished securing the bandages around Goemon’s torso and threw himself on the tatami floor, hands sprawled above his head and an exasperated grimace on his face. “Makes me jealous. I love kissing her after a good heist.”

“I can’t imagine they’d ever do anything of the sort with each other.”

Lupin let out a long hum of agreement, but went on, “There was a time when I couldn’t have imagined them alone in the same room without both being tied down.”

“Do you mean they would have fought?” Goemon hadn’t thought much about what had happened before he’d joined the others. They had already seemed like a close group, which was why he’d had such a hard time understanding how they ticked. It was difficult for an outsider, he supposed, but now it felt as obvious as knowing water was wet.

“Not really. They just would’ve left. The only reason they even talked to each other some days was because they both knew me. It’s nice they get along better, but if I find out he’s kissing her without my permission -”

“I thought Jigen didn’t like women.” Goemon blurted that out before he had the time to think, and he found he didn’t regret it. He wanted to see what Lupin would say to that. He had to know, of course, considering how close he and Jigen were. But he wanted to see the expression on Lupin’s face, what he thought of that sort of thing.

“Yeah,” Lupin agreed, a lazy grin twisting his mouth, “but he’s been known to make exceptions. And can you name a woman more exceptional than Fujiko?”

“Well...”

“But of course,” Lupin continued swiftly and sat up like he’d been given a jolt, a determined frown on his face.“Fujiko would never let him kiss her! She doesn’t like hairy old men like Jigen! So, I can relax and enjoy my share.”

“I’m sorry?”

Lupin beamed at him, then fell back on the floor where he grew more serious until the look on his face could barely be called a smile anymore. He kept his eyes on Goemon and just looked at him for a long time.

“Lupin? What’s the matter?”

“You’re so...I still can’t believe you went through that just for me.”

“Doesn’t it make you glad?”

“I’m overjoyed you care so much about me, but can’t you try to understand my perspective? I hate knowing that you bled for me. If you’d never met me, they wouldn’t have done this to you.”

“Then my life would have been lacking much. I’d do the same again for any three of you.”

“No. If it ever happens again, I want you to promise that you’ll lie. Or tell the truth. I don’t care. There’s nothing you can reveal to my enemies that’d be worse than watching you go through this again.” Lupin paused, licking his lips. “Or losing you. So, if this is some kind of a traditionalist pride thing -”

“It’s not. I only want to make clear that I care about you.”

“You can show that in so many other ways!” Lupin’s voice grew higher, and Goemon couldn’t tell if he was angry or pleading. The memories were covered in a haze of pain and delirium, but he’d never forget Lupin trembling with tears for him. It was an awful memory, he realized now, and he never wanted to see it again.

“I understand. I’ll do my best.”

They spent another month and a half together, receiving occasional news from Jigen and Fujiko. They had no phone in the house, and Lupin didn’t want to attract attention by making long-distance calls using the phone at the grocery store, so they communicated with letters.

As Goemon’s body healed, Lupin began to give him more space. He seemed to know exactly when he wanted to start holding his chopsticks himself, take a walk leaning on a cane rather than him, and didn’t need help getting out of the bath. Lupin left him alone when he wept in frustration because his sword no longer felt the same in his healing hands.

It was a late evening in the autumn when he told Lupin that he wanted to leave. They were having tea on the porch and talking about not much of anything. Goemon had enjoyed all of the previous nights of the kind, but he was growing restless. He missed his privacy and getting to live without having to take another person into consideration all the time.

Lupin didn’t look surprised, but he seemed a little down as he put aside his mug.

“You sure? We could just both join up with Jigen and Fujiko.”

“I’d only slow you down. I need to get back in shape. It’s better for us all if our paths diverge here.” Goemon picked up his sheathed sword that was resting on his knees and pulled out a few inches of the blade.

“I have a long way to go before I can be of use again,” he said. He would have to learn some basics from the start and hope that the precise control he’d had of his hands would come back. But if not, even that’d be an experience that made him stronger.

Besides, he was already looking forward to Lupin’s joy when he returned, not as a cracked hull of a man but a warrior he could rely on. To have that, he’d have to leave.

“Your worth to me isn’t measured in how much stuff you can cut. But okay. Come back when you’re ready.”

“I will return to this house in a year. Have someone deliver a message here, and I’ll join you three wherever you are at the moment.”

Lupin promised he’d do so, and Goemon already felt better. A time frame gave him something concrete to strive for and made it easier to plan. After what felt like an eternity of sitting around and doing nothing while he waited his body to mend its wounds, having a purpose made life seem so much clearer.

***

Goemon returned to the house one year later, almost on the exact day he’d left. A year go, it had been a sunny day, and the maple trees growing in the mountains had glowed red. They’d made him feel like his heart was on fire, too, and he’d often thought back to that and Lupin waving goodbye at the porch when he’d been sure he couldn’t keep up with his training.

The first lesson he’d had to learn over the past year was to stop calling it training. It’d been rehabilitation. He hadn’t tried to improve himself or find new, yet undiscovered abilities but to relearn skills that had once been so simple. His hands weren’t the same, and he’d had to shed more sweat and tears in one year than ever before in his life to find his precision. He didn’t want to go back to the others slower or clumsier. They’d welcome him even if he could never again carry a blade in his life, but he knew it’d take some of the light out of Lupin’s eyes to see him like that.

He’d polished his skills until they were almost back to his previous level. Only the most trained eye could see where he wasn’t quite as fast, or where his techniques were lacking. It might prove a problem as he aged, but for now, he was happy with himself.

Now that he was returning, the weather couldn’t have been any different from the day he’d parted with Lupin. The colors in the trees were the same, but they were dulled by the heavy downpour that made it hard to see where he was going. His sandogasa might have kept him dry otherwise, but the wind made the rain dance in the air and hit him in the face whenever he came across a spot in the path with no trees.

The house looked cold and deserted when he caught sight of it, but it brought an excited flush to his face. Lupin had promised to deliver a message. He’d stay for the night and then join the others no matter what corner of the world they were in. The year away had made it achingly clear how much he wanted them in his life.

The spare key was under the stone on the garden path that Lupin had showed him. Goemon let himself in and hurried through the darks rooms to the kitchen. Lupin had said he’d give his messenger instructions to leave the note in the pot hanging above the hearth.

His heart sank when there was nothing inside. Quickly, he turned over the lid to see if there was anything attached to it, then dug around in the sand and lifted all the pillows on the floor. Nothing.

Goemon’s first thought was that something had to have gone wrong. Lupin wouldn’t break his promise or forget. If there was no message, it could only mean that a heist had turned sour, or maybe someone was after him. Maybe someone like Wolf and Rose who wanted to make a name for themselves, or enemies from years ago.

If something had happened to the others while he was absent, he’d never forgive himself. Frantically, he thought about the fastest way to find out. If it was something big, the people in town might have heard about it. If not, he might be able to reach Zenigata if he made enough phone calls. Then again, it might be faster to take a train and go to Tokyo and -

A clank from the entrance stopped his thoughts, and his hand flew to his sword. He’d left the door unlocked. It might be just the wind, but if something had happened to Lupin and the others, maybe there was someone here to ambush him.

There were footsteps. Goemon pressed himself flat against the cupboard.

“Goemon?” came the hopeful voice, and Goemon dashed from his hiding place like lightning.

“Lupin?”

The figure standing by the kitchen entrance was wearing a bright yellow raincoat and a hat and had a dripping umbrella in his hand. The face staring at him in the middle of all that color was Lupin’s, features uncharacteristically stunned until they melted into the widest smile Goemon had ever seen.

“Goemon! You’re back!”

For a moment, Goemon thought that maybe Lupin had never left and had waited for him in this house for a whole year. But then he realized how unlived the place looked. The hearth was cold and everything smelled of dust. Nobody had been here in ages.

“What are you doing here? You were supposed to leave a message.”

“I know, but then it would have taken who knows how long before you got to us. I didn’t want to wait. It was faster to come here.”

“And what if I would have arrived later?”

“I would have waited.”

“And Jigen and Fujiko?”

“Staying at the hot springs one town over. We can take a train there tomorrow. But never mind them! How are you doing?”

Swish! Swish! Swish! Click!

Goemon put his sword back into its sheath, which was the only movement that a casual observer might have registered. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the umbrella Lupin was holding fell apart. He lifted the handle to eye level and looked at it.

“Wow, I hope it won’t rain tomorrow!”

“Ah! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have!” Goemon felt silly. He’d wanted to show off a little but also to assure Lupin that everything was alright. He could have just said so. This was childish.

Lupin tossed the handle away and stepped over the mess of metal and fabric on the floor. “Never mind the umbrella! Look at you! All back in form!” Lupin threw himself at him and wrapped his arms around him, and Goemon leaned into the embrace, surprising even himself.

“Better than ever,” he said.

Lupin squeezed him tighter for a second and let go. He kicked away the pieces of the destroyed umbrella and began to add firewood to the hearth in the middle of the floor.

“Let’s make some tea, and then you’ll tell me what you’ve been doing. I want to know everything,” he said and wriggled out of his raincoat. Underneath, he was wearing only a dress shirt, no jacket.

“It’s not very interesting.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Goemon sat down on the floor, crossed his legs and watched Lupin light a fire. And yet he felt like he was the one being watched. Lupin’s eyes were on him, not on the matches or the firewood or the tea leaves. It wasn’t a bad feeling, and he hoped that what Lupin saw met his expectations.

He’d spent long moments thinking about Lupin while away. The people he’d trained with had marvelled at how well he was recovering and wanted to know where he found the determination to work so hard. It was the same reason why he’d gotten his injuries in the first place - he wanted to protect Lupin.

And more. He wanted to give Lupin more than his loyalty and sword. He needed Lupin to look at him and want him. Now that he was healed, it wouldn’t be out of guilt or pity.

“Is something the matter?” Lupin asked.

“What do you mean?”

Lupin pointed at Goemon’s hands, and he quickly put them down in his lap. He hadn’t even noticed, but he’d been rubbing them the whole time, a bad habit he’d developed and hadn’t managed to shake yet.

“Something wrong with your hands?” Lupin asked.

“No, they’re fine. Look.” Goemon closed both of his fists, then opened them again finger by finger.

“Hmmm.” Lupin rubbed his chin and leaned as close as he could. He gave Goemon a suspicious look and offered both of his arms to him. “Grab my wrists and squeeze as hard as you can.”

Goemon did so. 

“Aah! Stop, stop! That hurts!” Lupin yanked his arms back when Goemon let go and rubbed the aching spots with a hiss.

“I told you they’re fine. I can do everything I did before,” Goemon said.

“Then what’s up with all that fidgeting?”

“Ah, well...” Goemon brought his hands in front of him and turned them around a few times. “Sometimes my joints ache. But it’s not that bad. It only happens when it’s cold.”

The look Lupin gave him was as if he was only now seeing him even though he’d been staring at him the whole time.

“You’re drenched! And I’m just making you sit around in this cold house! I’ll draw you a bath!” Lupin jumped to his feet, then realized something. “Crap, it’ll take hours to carry in the water and heat it. I should have had this place modernized.”

“It’s fine. I’ll warm up by the hearth,” Goemon said.

“Not good enough,” Lupin said and sat down again. He grabbed one of Goemon’s hands and pressed it between his own. They were warm, almost hot, and Goemon was sure it travelled right up his arm and straight to his face.

“Too bad,” Lupin said.

“What is?”

“I don’t have enough hands to warm up both of yours at the same time.”

“I can wait,” Goemon said. Then, “I mean, you don’t have to do it.”

Lupin began to examine the hand he was holding, running his fingers up and down every joint and tracing all the little scratches and old blisters. It was like he was checking that everything really worked, like he did to his little gadgets when he was fixing them.

Goemon felt the urge to do something. If he just sat there until Lupin was finished, this moment of calm would be over. It’d be harder to get the words out of him then. He didn’t know when he’d next have the chance to be alone with Lupin.

“Lupin,” he said, “will you let me touch you?” 

He was half-afraid that Lupin would laugh at him and dismiss his words as a joke. He’d gracefully accept a no if Lupin took him seriously. Or at least, that was what he’d promised himself when he’d made up his mind to do this, many months ago. He hoped his resolve would hold.

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

“That’s pretty fast. You sure you aren’t letting the joy of our reunion go to your head?” Lupin asked.

“I’ve had a whole year to think it through. I’m completely certain. I want you.”

“Can’t argue with a guy who’s got that kind of determination in his eyes.” Still holding his hand, Lupin lifted himself up on his knees so that he could look down at Goemon. And what a look it was. The fire in the hearth was their only source of light, and the glow of the flames was flickering on Lupin’s face, making his smile appear even warmer than Goemon had remembered. And it still wasn’t enough.

“Well? What do you want to do? I’m all yours,” Lupin said.

“I’m not doing this half-way or as a joke. If you say yes, I’m letting you have not just my body, but my heart as well. Do you want them both?”

Lupin’s smile faded. “To you of all people, I wouldn’t say yes if I didn’t mean it.” He tooks his hands and brought them to Goemon’s shoulders to push his wet kimono down. All Goemon had to do was raise his arms to slip them out of the sleeves, and the garment became sprawled around his waist.

“Let me see your back,” Lupin said and was about to crawl around him, but Goemon caught his arm and stopped him.

“Does it matter what’s there?”

“I’m not going to think it’s ugly, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You saw it when you were patching me up. What it looks like now isn’t important. None of that matters anymore.” Goemon hoped Lupin understood what he was getting at. There were no debts between them, and he didn’t want Lupin to still feel guilty about what had happened. He wasn’t sure if he could do this if he did.

“Right,” Lupin agreed, and his tone was enough to give Goemon the push to lean forward and kiss him. Lupin made a surprised sound but responded eagerly, picking at Goemon’s lips with his. His hands moved to Goemon’s waist, but he shoved them away, then broke the kiss.

“I want to touch you first,” he said. It was so easy for Lupin to touch other people. He was always hanging onto someone’s shoulder, putting his hands everywhere, hugging others. For once, Goemon wanted him to be still, just for him.

“Alright,” Lupin said, voice hoarse. “Do anything you want.”

Goemon began to unbutton Lupin’s shirt. When he got it off him, he folded it neatly and set it aside. He willed his heart to maintain a steady beat as he turned his eyes back on Lupin who was watching him intently, waiting.

He tried not to feel self-conscious. It wasn’t his first time doing something like this, not his first time with a man, but it also wasn’t something he could do with practiced ease. Lupin no doubt could, and it was hard not to worry about how he’d rank against everyone else.

His fingers found a comfortable spot on Lupin’s shoulders so that he could trace his collar bones with his thumbs. Lupin had a pliant and gangling body. He looked like he wouldn’t be able to match anyone in a fight. Yet there was something commanding about him, and Goemon was sure that if Lupin told him how to proceed, he’d follow his every word. For that reason, he was grateful that Lupin remained silent and let him take his time.

“I thought about you when I was away,” he said. “I apologize if this is too rash. I learned what loyalty and friendship are when I worked with you. I’m sure that what I feel for you is something more. I want to learn about that, too.”

He moved his fingers to brush against Lupin’s throat, and the other tilted his head to give him better access. Goemon thought back to how he’d met Lupin for the first time and told him he’d kill him. And now he was offering himself like that, watching him with half-closed eyes and letting him do anything he wanted. No words could have been a greater sign of how safe Lupin felt with him, and Goemon kissed him, overcome by the need to let him know how much he wanted him.

He traced down the body in front of him with him hands, stopping to examine anything that felt out of place. Lupin didn’t have a lot of scars. Goemon swore to himself he’d do his best to keep it that way. Whenever his touch grew too light, Lupin squirmed and giggled against his face, so he dared to press harder, but not enough to leave a mark.

Goemon’s hands came to a halt at Lupin’s hips. He pulled away from their kiss and looked questioningly at him to make sure.

“Keep going.”

He could feel Lupin’s arousal through his pants. It made his hands tremble with excitement, and it was only after much fumbling that he was able to unbuckle Lupin’s belt and pull down his zipper.

“Give me a sec,” Lupin said and struggled out of his pants, one ankle getting stuck because the fabric was wet and he managed to turn it partly inside-out in his haste. Finally, he tossed his pants aside and leapt at Goemon, like he was hoping to push him on his back on the floor with his weight.

Goemon didn’t budge, and Lupin ended up sitting in his lap. He crossed his legs behind Goemon’s back to lock him in place and gave him a knowing, filthy grin as he adjusted himself. His ass pressed against Goemon’s groin, and he deliberately tried to wriggle a reaction out of him.

“You’re still wearing too much,” Lupin said and tugged at the hakama and the kimono that was gathered at his hips.

Goemon slipped a hand inside Lupin’s underwear and wrapped his fingers around his cock, not surprised that he was already hard. It didn’t take much to get Lupin erect, he thought, testing the feel of the warm length in his hand and giving it an experimental squeeze.

“Goemon,” Lupin whined and fumbled with his lips for another kiss. It left Goemon feeling dizzy, both with his own arousal and the elation that he was the one getting such a reaction out of him. He held back a moan when Lupin dug through is clothing to pull out his cock.

“Let me do it to you first,” Goemon said. That was what he’d been after, to make Lupin forget about everyone else for a moment, to look at only him.

“I have a better idea,” Lupin said. He shifted closer in Goemon’s lap until he could grab both of them with his hand. The friction from them merely touching made Goemon shudder and push against Lupin. He moved his fingers so that he was holding Lupin’s hand, and it was so satisfying when they began to rub themselves together. He hadn’t thought mere physical contact could be that good.

Lupin draped an arm over Goemon’s shoulder and leaned into him, his rapid breath warm against his neck. His long fingers were working fast in the space between them, and Goemon wanted to tell him to slow down because so much so quickly was almost too much, but he could do little else than strain into him and take in gulps of air.

He felt Lupin’s other hand travel around his back and explore the scars he had there, but he didn’t care anymore because that was when he pushed his hips up to grind his length further against his, and any coherent words Goemon had on his mind disappeared.

“Goemon, Goemon...” Lupin’s hand went back up, to his hair, and he kissed him sloppily so that half of it was to the side of his mouth. He was warm and sweaty in Goemon’s arms, and Goemon thought he’d never wanted him as much as now.

Then Lupin went rigid for a moment, a moan torn from his throat, and slumped against him. Goemon had to hold him with both arms to stop him from drooping to the floor. Lupin laughed against his throat and felt around between them, playing with his release that was smeared on them.

“Not done yet? Let me,” he muttered into his ear and began to slide his hand up and down Goemon’s cock.

Goemon was almost afraid of finishing. Because then this would be over. He wanted to have Lupin right here, pressed against him, admiring him, and talking to him, for as long as possible. At the same time, Lupin knew all too well what to do, and now that his own need had been sated, he was giving everything he had to Goemon.

“We could’ve done a lot more if I’d come prepared,” he said. “But I didn’t think… I thought I’d drive you away if I asked.”

Goemon didn’t have to ask why. He was sure that if Lupin had approached him, he would have turned him down. Just like he’d once thought that friends and living for something other than his sword were meaningless, he’d seen sex as something that’d distract him from reaching his full potential and weaken his spirit. Or maybe he'd been worried of being vulnerable. Baring everything he felt for another like this was overwhelming in how many weak spots he was willingly exposing. But when it was Lupin, he had nothing to fear. Hearing that Lupin had thought of him like that, too, and that he'd also worried about approaching him, made him sure his heart would break open if he couldn't show his happiness somehow.

“I love you,” he blurted out, embarrassed that he couldn’t hold it, but he was feeling too good, right down in the tips of his toes. He tried to meet the movements of Lupin’s hand with his hips, but Lupin had no rhythm to follow.

“Mm,” Lupin responded, and Goemon felt his smile on his neck as he leaned to kiss his skin. Lupin’s hand gripped him harder, moved faster, and he was so close he wanted to cry.

“I know just what I want to do next time,” Lupin said. Then he whispered it into Goemon’s ear. That and the reassurance that there would be another time pushed Goemon over the edge. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against Lupin’s shoulder, trying to keep his voice down as Lupin held him tight and let him have his high.

They remained like that for a while, sitting with their legs around each other and waiting for their hearts to calm down. Goemon became aware of how chilly it was in the room, even with the fire by their side. He was reluctant to pull away from Lupin’s body heat, but he knew they couldn’t stay like that for the night.

“We should bathe,” he said.

“No,” Lupin whined. “I don’t want to carry the water. And it’s going to be damn cold. There should be napkins somewhere here. That’s enough.”

“I don’t wish to spend the night clammy. I will take care of the water.”

There wasn’t a bath in the house, but Lupin had arranged for a large tub to be brought in when he’d been taking care of Goemon. It was still there, and Goemon grabbed the buckets Lupin had used for carrying water. The rain hit him in the face when he stepped outside, but he was grateful for it and the darkening evening. They made it unlikely anyone was out there watching the house, so he didn’t bother covering himself for the short walk to the well and back.

He almost slipped on the garden path. Not because they were wet, not even because his knees were wobbly from his climax. What was making his steps unsteady was the overwhelming knowledge that he’d slept with Lupin. Lupin had wanted him.

Goemon emptied the first bucket right over his head as soon as it was out of the well. He had to calm down. Feeling this happy couldn’t lead anywhere good.

He carried the water to the tub and poured one of the buckets into it. Then he had to go back to the kitchen and carry Lupin to the tub as well. He wailed in protest the whole time, but didn’t fight back, limp and lazy from his release. He screamed when Goemon dropped him in the tub, then again when he turned over the remaining bucket and drenched him.

“It’s too cold! Let’s at least heat it!”

“That’ll take too long. Besides, cold water steels your spirit.”

“No thanks! I’d rather feel warm and happy!”

“Life moves in waves. It can’t always be good.”

Lupin splashed water at him and made an annoyed face when Goemon didn’t even flinch. He sighed and put up a show of washing his hair even though he didn’t have shampoo in it, then got out of the tub and dove for the closet where the towels were. He wrapped himself into one and skedaddled back into the kitchen to care for the fire and to make them more tea.

“There are still some cups of ramen in the cupboard if you’re hungry,” he said when Goemon joined him some moments later.

“Just tea is fine.”

Goemon sat down by the fire, unsure what to do. He wanted to reach out to Lupin and do something nice for him and to get affirmation that something had changed, but he didn’t know if Lupin would like that. He’d seen him hug and cuddle and mutter sweet nothings to Fujiko countless times, but that had been in hopes of getting something from her. He might not be up for anything of the sort afterwards.

“I’ll bring out the futons,” he said to give himself something to do. Since it was a chilly night, he thought it best to sleep in the room with the hearth. He wrinkled his nose at the stuffy smell of the fabric when he took them out of the closet, but he knew he could hardly complain after nobody had used them for a year.

He carried them over and arranged them on the floor. Lupin looked up from where he was adding wood to the fire.

“Make them closer,” he said.

Goemon looked at his work. There was enough space between the futons that the only way they’d be able to touch was if they both reached out with their hands. He grabbed one of the them and dragged it closer to the other, then worried that it was too much.

That’s how lovers sleep, he thought. Or married couples.

“That’s better,” Lupin said. He was wearing an old jinbei that he’d left in the house when they’d departed a year ago. His feet were bare, and he brought his toes closer to the fire to warm them.

Goemon wanted to do the same. Perhaps the cold bath had been a bad idea. He had to fight against the shiver that threatened to go down his entire body.

Lupin grinned at him from the other side of the hearth. He didn’t have to say anything. He’d noticed Goemon was feeling cold and was enjoying every second of it. That just made Goemon more determined to act like he was fine. He didn’t even touch the tea.

“I can dry your hair for you,” Lupin suggested. He grabbed the towel he’d left lying around and came over to sit behind Goemon’s back. He gathered his hair into his hand and began to squeeze it with the towel. “The last thing we need is for you to end up in bed with a cold.”

“I’m not going to catch a cold from something like this. I’m not that weak.”

The feeling of Lupin’s fingers in his hair was different from before, less urgent but just as intimate. Goemon liked the light brushes against his neck and how it almost felt like he was being petted. It was nice, even though it was so entirely pointless. But he’d learned to appreciate a lot of pointless things since he’d joined Lupin’s group.

“Let’s have a soak in the hot springs tomorrow,” Lupin said.

Goemon realized that he hadn’t visited a hot spring since the time Rose and Wolf had ambushed him. After his injuries had gotten better, there just hadn’t been time or an opportunity. He supposed it was fitting that his first time since then would be with his friends. He was returning to them after his long recovery, ready to continue his life where he belonged.

Lupin’s fingers stopped for a while, and he put his chin down on his shoulder to get his attention. “Goemon? Are you okay?”

“I’m happy that I’m back.”

“Yeah? Glad to hear that.” There was a warm tone in Lupin’s voice. He didn’t remove his head from Goemon’s shoulder. “So am I.”


End file.
